Professor Sprout's discovery of another destroyed Mandrake was hushed up. There was no sense in throwing the students into an even greater panic.
Moody quietly stepped up his patrols. People often saw him catching up on sleep during the day—apparently, he had begun to trust his surroundings a little.
With an uneasy air hanging over Hogwarts, exam week arrived, and the entire Castle grew tense.
These exams would decide whether they could enjoy their summer holiday, so most of the young wizards took them seriously—even if many were cramming at the last minute.
Will, Hermione, and the others weren't worried at all. In fact, no one from the High Tower was especially worried except Neville, and that was mostly because he still lacked confidence in himself.
Three days before the first exam, on a morning thick with anxiety and frantic last-minute studying, something happened in the Great Hall that would go down in school history.
The students were eating breakfast while squeezing in a final look at their notes or discussing questions when the doors to the hall slowly opened.
Few noticed at first. Then students near the entrance drew sharp breaths, and cries of surprise rippled across the hall.
Cutlery clattered onto plates. Books thudded to the floor. Everyone stared at the doorway as if struck by a Full Body-Bind Curse.
Harry Potter stood there.
He wore neat school robes. His face was rosy, his green eyes shone brightly behind his round glasses, and he even held his Wand.
He looked perfectly healthy—nothing like the motionless figure that had lain on the cold floor after his "heroic sacrifice" months ago, still gripping the Sword of Gryffindor.
The silence lasted only a few seconds before the hall erupted. Shouts and chatter nearly raised the roof.
"Harry!" Hermione Granger was the